"Get out!" Marta shouted again, sweeping my favorite vase away with the back of her hand. It crashed to the floor and shattered.
"I said out!"
I stood frozen in the kitchen, a cup of coffee still in my hand. The scalding liquid spilled onto my fingers, but I barely felt it. The pain gripping my chest was far worse.
"Marta... do you even realize what you're saying?" My voice trembled despite my best efforts to remain calm. "This apartment is mine."
"To you?" She burst into a dry, cruel laugh. "Without my son, you'd still be living in a damp, miserable rented room! Thomas has earned everything here. Not you. You've never contributed a thing."
I slowly put down my cup. Something was bubbling inside me.
"Thomas?" I said in a low voice. "He didn't pay a single cent. My parents bought this apartment before the wedding. I can show you the papers if you want."
His face immediately turned red.
"You're lying!" she yelled. "Thomas told me he bought it! You're just a guest here. Pack your bags before I call the police!"
